Skinny Love
by Cherie Blossom
Summary: Raven Darkholme had always had her heart set on just one man. Her whole heart belongs to him, but what hurts the most is that his heart might not be something she would ever own completely. ONESHOT - Based on X-Men: First Class


When my eyes catch a glimpse of the mirror, I hastily turn away with a feeling of anger and envy under the pit of my stomach. I feel despicable, yet with slight hesitation, I begin to turn my head, my eyes slowly meeting its exact replica. I stand still, facing the still mirror with a straight face. Scales surround the contours of my face, and my golden eyes flash out from my dark complexion. I am Raven Darkholme and I would give anything to be normal.

I'm blue. _Literally speaking_. A blue skinned red head.

I have no idea how I came to be this way; how I was even born. I have no complete memory of my past – no idea who my parents are or even if I did have one. Anger and agony begin to build up again deep in me; frustration takes over my lack of knowledge of how my mutation came to be.

Maybe I was a toyed laboratory experiment, I would always think. I never knew anyone as my family, until he came into my life – Charles. I can still remember our first meeting clearly as if it was yesterday. I was merely ten, and he was probably around eleven. I stumbled upon this young English boy's kitchen aiming to fill my empty stomach. The very moment I heard his voice pierce through my mind, I let my guard down, revealing my true form.

I expected screams and hysterical noises, but it was the exact opposite. I remember the way his blue eyes lit up, his cheeks blushing red, his smile brightening up the place.

"You're not scared of me?" I remember asking.

"I always believed I couldn't be the only one in the world," he'd said to me.

Being the true English boy he is, he shook hands with me like I was no different from any normal human. True, he had his own mutation as well, but his physical appearance was no different to any other human. I was absolutely alien, but his eagerness filled me with happiness.

Charles is my family, my only family. Charles is mine. And I am his. Anything else is unthinkable… which was something I thought would last forever.

I strip naked, and step into the warm shower, still engrossed in my thoughts. I look down at my body, glancing at the glossy scales scattered all over me. Why?

My thoughts revert to the previous incident at the pub earlier this evening. Once again, I felt jealous and insecure. Seated at a table not far enough from the bar counter, it was easy to spot Charles flirting with some British girl. I don't know her but I remember seeing her around campus. In public, I disguise myself as Charles' sibling, but American and blonde.

_Mutant and proud._ I heard her say. "Peachy for someone with a pretty mutation like hetero chromia. At least you aren't a freak like me," I mutter to myself, followed by a disgusted scoff, loud enough for only me to hear as I dry myself up and cover myself up with a white fluffy bathrobe.

I open the bathroom door to reveal Charles seated by his study table, working on his thesis as usual. The creaking sound instantly lets him know that I'm done with the shower, but his eyes never left his work.

I pick up my toothbrush and set some mint flavored toothpaste on it, frowning. I am still upset, but I know I'm not skilled enough to hide my emotions from him. "_Mutant and proud_," I heard myself suddenly blurt out, my voice oozing with sarcasm. He releases a loud sigh, his eyes still glued to his notes. I roll my eyes and finish brushing my teeth, spitting out the paste from my mouth. The mirror and I once again engage in a staring battle, and I mutter under my breath, loud enough for solely my ears. "If only…"

I exit the bathroom and stand a few feet away from Charles still engaged from his work. I suddenly began to admire his physical appearance once again. His brown locks fall in the most amazing way, his face and jaw more defined and his blue eyes are intensely concentrated on his thesis. Then my thoughts revert back to the British hetero chromic girl and my world suddenly turns around and I'm back to being upset.

"Would you date me?" My voice was straightforward, but I felt it shake slightly.

"Of course I would," he responds yet his focus is still intact, "Any young man would be lucky to have you. You're stunning."

I knew he wasn't exactly stating the whole truth. I had the feeling he was referring to my human form, the pretty blonde Raven Darkholme. "Looking like this…" I add.

He stops working and looks up, confused. "What?" then he adds, "blue…" His pause made me feel worse. Like he was unsure of what to say, just so he wouldn't hurt my feelings. "You're my oldest friend."

I roll my eyes at his retort. Once again, he's prying away from the original subject. "I'm your only friend."

He slightly laughs, as if I've offended him with my comment. "Thank you for that," he states sarcastically.

"Well…?"

I was hoping for a more positive answer, the kind that would help me calm down and boost my self esteem even a little.

But instead, he gets up from the table with his book in hand, and transfers to the couch, trying to avoid eye contact. "I'm incapable of thinking of you that way, it feels so wrong."

This was getting annoying, but I wanted an answer. I follow him towards the couch and stop in front of him, the center table separating us from each other. I sigh but I was still persistent.

"Well, what if you didn't know me?"

"Unfortunately I do know you," he begins as he sets himself comfortably on the couch. "God, what has gotten into you lately, why are you being so concerned with your looks?" That comment hit the bull's eye, which finally made me stop trying to get a decent answer from him.

I stand still for a few moments unsure of what to say. I'm completely at a loss of words. Once again, he'd hit the jackpot. Sometimes, I can't help but feel that he occasionally reads my mind even though he promised me he'd never do. Or maybe I was just too plain obvious.

I make my way towards the couch and lay myself comfortably right next to Charles. "I'm sleepy, will you read to me?" I request, but it sounded more like a demand. Charles and I only have each other; I know he would never try to upset me more.

"I can't," he sighs. "I have my thesis coming up. I have to study."

"Well fine then. Read that. Your thesis always sets me right off." I snuggle closer to him; my head on his chest, his left arm draped around me, as he begins to read the first paragraph from his notes.

I want to hate him. For making me feel this way. I'm sick and tired of being treated as a little girl. But upon hearing the sound of his voice makes me forget why I was even upset in the first place. Whenever I hear his voice, I feel complete. His British dialect is intriguing, which makes his voice sound more attractive. It has a soothing tone, with a slight sharp accent to it. My lips slowly curve up into a smile, my eyes closed. Little by little, his voice makes me forget about my worries and insecurities.

A sigh escapes my lips, and his reading stops. "What's wrong, Raven?"

My eyes flutter open slowly and I whisper, "Nothing… Keep reading."

His arms suddenly wrap around my shoulders, and he pulls me closer to him as he leans his head onto mine. I could feel his breath on the side of my head, warm and comforting. "Would you tell me what's the matter?" he says. "Or would I have to read your mind?"

Frowning, I slowly sat up from the couch and turned to face him, our faces inches apart. "You promised me you'd never do that," I whisper, my gaze slightly tense.

"Yes, I did. But with you being so stubborn and wavering away from me, I might have to do what's right," he responds quite sternly, which made me quite upset. "I'm responsible for you."

Those words finally hit the core. I'm sick and tired of being treated as a little girl. Apparently, he still sees me as the little blue girl who snuck into his house way back. But that was a long time ago, things have changed.

"So, you're saying that you would break your promise? To me? I'm not a little girl anymore, Charles. Stop treating me like one!" I arise from the couch and start to make my way towards my room, ignoring his voice as he hollers my name. I reach the door to my room and freeze for a while after I place my hand on the knob. "What am I to you, Charles?"

I heard Charles heave out a frustrated sigh, and I could imagine how slightly mad he looks even with my back turned to him. "Raven, we've talked about this. You're my best friend, stop being so immature. If this is about the hetero-chromia thing with the girl earlier today, then I'm sorry!"

'_You don't even know half of it_.' "Never mind what I said. I'm just tired," I mutter under my breath, loud enough for him to hear. A tear escapes from my left eye and drops to the side of my jaw. "Good night, Charles. See you in the morning."

I enter the room engulfed in darkness and shut the door behind me. My knees began to feel weak and wobbly; I just couldn't take it anymore. I lean back against the door and let my weight slide my body downwards until my butt hits the floor. Tears immediately streamed down my face, from all the pain and agony I've built up deep inside.

Charles was the only man who has ever accepted me for who I am. He was the only man who never looked at me with distaste when I'm in my true form. He was the only man who has ever made me feel this way. He was the only man I've ever loved.

But he was also the man who kept me hidden in the shadows for the safety of everyone… including me.

I always thought it was just going to be Charles and me against the world. Together._ Forever_. But no matter how bad the world gets, he never wanted to be against it in the first place. He had always wanted to be a part of it. But I don't… and I never will.


End file.
